


Sweet Baby Priscilla-Jean

by snafumoofins



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, Final Thoughts, Hurt, mega angst, seriously nothing but angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 20:47:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12066714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snafumoofins/pseuds/snafumoofins
Summary: Obvious spoilers for the S2 finale of Preacher. This is pure angst. Pure hurt. I’m sorry. Tulip's final moments.





	Sweet Baby Priscilla-Jean

_ There is a young cowboy, he lives on the range— _

“No, no,  ** _NO_** , this isn’t—not  _you; this wasn’t supposed to happen_ , I...I don’t...I  _ **DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO, TULIP, HELP ME** ,_” she’s cradled like a child in his arms, as though he could make up for the staggering walk she’s taken from “Jenny’s” apartment all on her lonesome. Everything’s burning, worse than it’s ever burned before when she’s gotten shot, but her toes feel so goddamn cold, head feels like it’s full of moth-balls. Tulip’s chest squeezes in white-fire pain with each breath she attempts, feels like she’s got a  _mouth_  full’a moth-balls, too, except these ones are filling her throat, her lungs, making  _everything_  fuzzy. Cassidy’s got tears in his eyes; he’s too sweet on her, it’s gonna kill him, someday. “Put me down, get Jesse. He can fix it,” she hears herself say, though her voice sounds so  _sad,_  has it  _been_  sounding that way, lately? She knows why: Jesse’s not around. He  _hasn’t_  been around and she hasn’t had her goddamn head on straight ‘cos of it.   


_ His horse and his cattle are his only companions— _

Cassidy flutters fitfully in-and-out of her view as she lays upon the hard floor of Dennis’ kitchen, his hand clenched into his hair, face tugged downwards in panic as he rambles into his phone: “—she’s  _shot_ , mate. She’s  _ **DYING**_ , she  _needs_  you. I d-don’t know  _how,_ she showed up at the door pale as a bleedin’ banshee, I. . .” a shaky sigh is audible, “If you love this woman you’ll be here and help me  _save her life_ , Jesse Custer.” She’s always liked the way Cassidy’s voice twists words, paints them in his own, unique accent.  _Jesse Custar_ ,  _Too-lip._ There’s a  _thump_  beside her, Cassidy’s fallen onto his ass, long legs strewn out in front of him like a fallen doll’s. “I killed Dennis,” Cassidy states, voice thick, twisting in agony. Tulip supposes  _that’s_  why ‘medicinal cocaine’ was a thing, earlier, why Dennis didn’t come to the car. She doesn’t rightly know  _what_  to say; she’s never been the best at comforting people who weren’t Jesse Custer or a drunk-off-his-ass Walter, but her trembling hand slips closer to his ‘till she’s wrapping her fingers around his forefinger. “I need t’breathe,” she tells Cassidy, and  _ **GOD**_  her voice sounds even  _worse_  than before, so small, so  _breakable_ , but she knows Cassidy’s a finicky thing, needs something singular to concentrate on.

_Waiting for summer, his pastures to change—_  


“That’s it, Tu, just keep at it, you’re doin’ great,” in a way, she wonders if this is what labor is like. Focus on breathing, bear the brunt of a horrible pain, and then you’ve got a golden honeydew skinned baby in your arms with Jesse Custer’s dark, dark eyes, and your nose. This isn’t rewarding, though, it’s  _fighting_  for life, and Tulip’s fought for hers for a  _long_  ass time. Faintly, she hears footsteps, quick ones, quick footsteps of  _dumb snakeskin shoes,_ the one’s she’s always teased him over ‘cos they make him look like a wannabe cowboy (he  _is_  one, just doesn’t have the horse or  _real_  cowboy boots). She realizes her eyes as half-way shut, she can’t open them no more, kinda funny, almost. She must look  _real dumb_. She can still  _hear_  them, though, her boys, Cassidy and Jesse. Jesse’s so calm,  _so cool_ , he’s her guy, that’s for sure, and  _yeah_ , they’ve been through this sort of thing plenty’a times before. Gun shots, bite wounds, wedged shrapnel, knife gashes, you name it, she and him have patched it up. Tulip wants to sit up, grin crookedly at the two of them ‘cos it’s a big prank and she’s fine, but it  _isn’t_  and she can’t even feel her fingers anymore. She feels someone looming over her, catches that familiar scent of musty bibles, cigarettes, and whiskey, wishes she could curl up against him. Tulip wants to smile as Jesse teases her ‘bout not being able to last a day without him, but she can’t even feel her own damned lips. Can’t even cry tears of goddamn frustration, ‘cos she’d love to sit there and tell Jesse about how mad she is at him for leaving, for treating them like shit, how mad she is at that cashier for being a  _prick_ , how mad she is at that woman for makin’  _her_  out to be the bad guy, how mad she is at Jenny for being a goddamn  _fake._ Only person that  _isn’t_  on her shit list is Cassidy. She should tell him he’s a good friend more often. Feels like yesterday they were sharing a blunt and rattling away on the Rock-It 5 drums, sharing . Dammit, she wants to curl up against him, too, ‘cos they’ve all been pretty dang broken, lately.  


_ And as the moon rises he sits by his fire, thinking about women and glasses of beer— _

She’s gonna die. Tulip’s always spat in the eye of death; lived fast, lived cocky, but here he was, knockin’ on her door. This ain’t no  _Johnny Cash_  song, she can’t run on for a long time, can’t take her goddamn rusty cage and run, she’s here, lifting boulders just to get a decent gasp of air. She wants to open her eyes and see Jesse one last time.  _Jesse_. She promised him ‘till the end of the world, didn’t she? And look at her now, breaking promises, breaking  _him_. She’s scared for him. He’s only ever lost his daddy, and that did him in so bad he was  _still_  guilty for it. All’s Tulip wants is to tell Cassidy to watch out for him, ‘cos she knows Jesse can be a dick, but he’s got emotions deep down past the walls John Custer’s constructed. More than anything, she wishes she could kiss Jesse Custer’s lips, just one kiss goodbye.This is all God’s fault. If he hadn’t ran off like a  _gotdamn coward_  this’d never happen. They were supposed to  _maybe_  get married,  _maybe_  try that  _baby thing_  again. She won’t even get a kiss goodbye.  _Can’t I even get one kiss goodbye?_ she directs towards  _whoever’s_ listening, but all she can hear in reply is Cassidy’s raw, yelling voice, and Jesse. Jesse’s crooning, just like he used to talk to her when she’d have nightmares before Dallas. “ _Let her die._ ” What about ‘till the end of the world? He’s not gonna fight for her? Not gonna tell God to go fuck himself and just  _pull her back_  from her fucked-up state?

_ And closing his eyes as the dogies retire, he sings out a song which is soft but it's clear  
as if maybe someone could hear— _

Oxygen’s gone. Her consciousness slips from her brain to her feet, floats away to the peeling, crusty ceiling. Last thing she can feel is her body seizing, last thing she can hear is a mixture of Jesse Custer’s shushes and Cassidy’s agonized roar. She wishes she could hold them both in either arm, hum that song she’d been singing earlier. . . _what was it, again?_ She can’t rememb—

_ Goodnight you moon light ladies, rock-a-bye sweet baby Priscilla-Jean, deep greens and blues are the colors I choose, won't you let me go down in my dreams? And rock-a-bye sweet baby Priscilla-Jean. _

**Author's Note:**

> THAT EPISODE. HOLY SHIT. I know this was coming because of the comics, but it happened in an entirely new way that broke me in so many ways. That entire scene was so. . . disturbing and it broke my heart tbh. I love Jesse and Cassidy and Tulip sm but Tulip is my goddamn baby I can't live w/o her Jesse Custard u better get her ass back ASAP. 
> 
> Please let me know if y'all would like another chapter of this of her revival, though. I feel bad feeding you straight angst with no fluff. 
> 
> Song lyrics used are from "Sweet Baby James," the song Tulip sang in the chevelle.


End file.
